


Antlers

by RadClaw



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadClaw/pseuds/RadClaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maxine Caulfield is an ex-FBI criminal investigator. When her old partner calls her up with a case that's personal, it's up to her to respond. Based on the Video Game Life is Strange and loosely off of the TV Show Hannibal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Again

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the short length of this first chapter. The document in which this story is being worked on isn't exactly separated into chapters. I'm finding logical breaking points and putting those as chapters.

Kristen and Fernando met in the 4th grade. They both had Mr. Klepick’s English class. And they both hate the way he would drone on. Luckily for them, they sat next to each other. This started a game that would carry on throughout all of their high school years. They would pass notes. The two became friends quick. Others would enter their lives respectively, but they were always best friends to one another.

It was in Ms. Kettleman’s Chemistry class in the 10th grade when Fernando worked up the nerve to finally ask Kristen out. Their friends all said it was about time, and a couple of them even threw a party to celebrate the announcement. Most people would have said they’d never make it passed a second date.

The pair proved them wrong when they married a year after graduation. It was Kristen who popped the question. She wore her brunette hair up in that bun that Fernando always loved, and wore that dress he bought her as a birthday gift. The turquoise dress with the emeralds imbued on the belt. She asked Fernando out for dinner, told him to wear that tux he wore to prom, he always looked so nice in it.

When she popped the question there wasn't a hesitation in Fernando’s mind, the answer was yes, god yes, it had always been yes. The got married that spring and invited all of their friends, even Max, who had gone off to work in the government, and all of them showed up. They showed all their friends pictures of their engagement night and everyone, even Max, commented on how how nice their outfits looked.

It was four years later when they put on those same outfits, which fit surprisingly well, and went out to go to the theater. They had always loved the theater, it was their first date after all. It was a production of Hamlet, a play which neither had been a big fan of, but Hamlet was played by a friend, and they were always loyal to friends.  
They returned home from their peaceful evening at the theater.It was dark out, 7:32. The first call to police was registered at 7:35. Their blood adorned the walls of the foyer in blissful patterns. There was a weight to them. A sadness.

Maxine Caulfield sat in the same spot in that foyer for 30 minutes. Tracing every line of blood from the holes in the victims bodies, to the walls where they now laid rest. She had done this job for 5 years, 4 of which for the FBI, but the process remained the same. A bullet hit Fernando’s shoulder, he stumbled. The killer got Kristen on the first try. A gaping wound replaced a beautiful blue eye, and the ground below was turned a murky scarlet. Then Fernando got hit again, this time in the leg, a messy splotch of blood covering the carpet. And then again in the chest, spraying the wall his dead body was now slumped on. They didn't even get to die holding each other.

Max had known these two, in another time. But the job at hand always stripped away all personal connections, all emotion from her brain. The house didn't even need broken into, the killer walked right in after them. Probably watched the show with them. Definitely followed them home. The police arrived at 7:45, Max at 8. The killer was nowhere to be found, or next door. Each possibility just as likely as the other.

Max rose from her perched position, cracking her back. She turned to one of the accompanying officers, Officer Wells, he was the one who called her in.

“Three bullets.” Max whispered.

 

“How do you figure?” At this request Max took her right hand and formed it into a gun. She aimed at the air where Kristen would have been standing, and mocked a trigger being pulled.

  
“The bullet went through Jane’s head, and lodged itself into John’s shoulder.” She pointed her hand lower, mocked a bang, and then a little higher, making another noise.

  
“Three bullets.” Max wasn't a blood spatter analyst, but this, she figured, should be obvious.

 

“It’s certainly an… interesting conclusion.” At this, Max just shrugged. She walked through the open door.

  
“Call it what you will, unless you need more from me I’ll be leaving.”

  
“We shouldn't need anything else.”

  
“Oh yeah,” She paused for a moment. “make sure you give me a call when the autopsy comes in and confirms my report.” And with that, Max went straight to her car.

\---  
That night wasn't the first time Max saw them. Every night for what seems like a never ending period of days Max saw the Antlers in her dreams. She never remembered them of course, but they were always there. Sometimes they were alone. Often times they were accompanied with a slim figure cast entirely in shadow. Tonight the figure was there. But it wasn't in shadow, it was covered in a veil of something almost translucent. Tonight the figure was in Max’s face. She could make out the finer details of the figure, it was feminine, almost graceful, but with a gait of dread. It also, she noted, smelled faintly of cinnamon.

Her room was 1B in a rented apartment. It wasn't exactly a glorious place to live, but it did the job. Some might have even called it quaint. The kitchen island was covered in glasses, dried remains of various alcohols and sodas sticking to the bottom. The room smelled faintly of vanilla, due to the odor-maker plugged into the wall socket. Adjacent to the kitchen was the living room, where a small futon laid next to a glass table. On the table was a notebook, flipped to page in which a gorgeous young brunette stood hand in hand with a dashing man in a tuxedo.

It was a phone call that woke Max from her dream, and she glared at her phone, sitting, buzzing on the table, her eyes hazy, mind trying to reclaim something that was never really there. The number was saved on her phone as D. Madsen. David was twice Max’s senior, and had served in army intelligence before joining the FBI. Before that he was soldier in the gulf war, where he developed the PTSD that so drove him into the hands of the FBI. It was there that he served as Max’s partner, until a year ago. He was in his heart a good man, but too stymied by the ghosts of his pasts. Max picked up the phone and hit answer, sitting there in silence.

“Max are you there?” His voice was hurried, as if he were walking a brisk pace.

  
“Yes.”

  
“We need you.” A tone of desperation, a bit of pity.

  
“I don’t work in FBI anymore, Jefferson made sure of that.” She added sting to her monotonous tone, David was always so easy to break.

  
“I've talked to him and he said that in this case, a very certain exception can be made. It’s urgent.” Pleading, even more desperation.

  
“Must be if Jefferson’s cracked. What’s the deal.”

  
“Have you been keeping up with the Arcadia Bay Butcher case?” He’s practically begging for cooperation at this point.

  
“Dave you know I don’t keep track of serial killers anymore, doctors orders.”

  
“He’s killed his 7th victim. “ His voice cracks a bit here, uncharacteristic of the man Max worked with for so long.

  
“And why is this urgent?”

  
“Because we found a note on the last one. It asked specifically for you.” At this Max’s eyes had opened. 4 years of catching serial killers now flooded her memory. The dam had burst.  
“Where?” Max tried to hide the mix of terror and curiosity in her voice.

  
“Oregon, 20 miles east of Portland.” Despite the fact that David knew he had just won, there wasn't a hint of happiness in his voice. There was only more desperation, a man who knows full well he’s leading his partner in like a lamb to the slaughter. But he has no choice. And neither does Max. She hung up the phone, there was only one thing to do.

Buy a ticket to Oregon.


	2. Wire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus H everyone I'm sorry for the distance between postings. I'll try to be better at posting chapters. Anyway,s enjoy.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“State your name to the camera please.” The voice was dull, a record scratched.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Maxine Caulfield”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Do you, Maxine Caulfield, admit to the shooting of the suspect Allen Gregory?”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Yes.”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Are you convinced it was the only course of action available.”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

There was a pause. “Yes”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Are you willing to take full responsibility in the case that it wasn’t?”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Yes”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Do you acknowledge that your actions will remove you from the case?”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Yes”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Are you aware that an investigation into your psyche will be required, and will be carried out in detail?”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Yes”

The office of Doctor Markus Jefferson was adorned in a variety of hanged landscapes, pictures trying to recapture the flame of the past. Where there weren’t photos there were bookcases, full to the brim with different texts about the inner psychosis, the process of the mind, how people interacted, etcetera. The desk in front of Max was a bulking giant compared to the one she had in her office. It was scantily covered, a map, some papers belonging to Dr.Jefferson, a framed photo of him and a young lady Max had never seen. At the other end of the desk, sitting in a brown leather chair, was Jefferson himself, barely older than Max, with a contemplative look on his face.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Now then Ms.Caulfield,”he started “I’d like to talk to you about your little… incident.”  
“There was a gun to her head, he would of pulled the trigger.” Max put out the defensive, she was innocent, she knew she was.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Be that as it may,” Jefferson reached for the papers on his desk, lifting them to his eyes, studying them “things like this are simply a precaution. To make sure you haven’t gone off the deep end.” He gauged her reaction. “We take these things very seriously Ms.Caulfield.”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

Max stared at him, a knowing look in her eyes. He refused to call her by her first name. Either a professional courtesy, or a sign of weakness. Max had guess the latter.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Now then, Agent Madsen is currently leading the investigation, you’ll have no need to worry while you…” He paused before letting out a long, agitated sigh. “Now you’ve killed someone. That’s very big, and it can do things to you. It can change you. Now, i’ve been studying your files,” he gestured to the papers in his hand. “and I’m sorry but you aren’t…” he pauses here. Bites his lips, loses his eyes into the papers. He’s trying to find the words.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“I understand.” Her words are quite, and if Jefferson hadn’t been waiting to hear them he may not of noticed it at all. “When do I have to go?”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“As of today you’re officially no longer apart of the team. You have until the end of the day to leave.” He pauses for a second, licks his lips, reaches out and puts his hand on Max’s. She recoils immediately and their eyes meet. “It’s not the end of you professionally, but unfortunately I can’t recommend you work higher than county. I’ll send some files to your apartment tomorrow, official orders and such. I’m sorry Max.” That was the first time Dr.Jefferson called Max by her first name. And it was the last time Max ever saw him.

\---

Arcadia Bay is a small town. A smattering of residential areas, some commercial interest, a lighthouse, and on the biggest hill, what used to be an academy. It was repurposed in the 80’s, the door rooms were turned into a hotel, the gym was repurposed into a more general gym, and the classrooms were converted into stalls for a local market. While the spacing wasn’t optimal, it was the best the town could do. Her time in the town, however short it would be, would be spent at the Blackwell Hotel, in the 19th room on the second floor. It was a shitty room. The wallpapers were tattered, stained. The whole room smelled of inconsiderable stenches. It was dirty.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

Max plunked her bag down on the table given, a small, rotting thing with a lamp on it. She pulled out her notebook and laptop from the bag, spreading it across. Her notebook was open to a page, and on it, a drawing of one of the victims laid front and center. Max studied the picture with great intent, before her phone buzzed. She whipped it out of her pocket and picked up.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Madsen?”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Max, are you free?” She looked around the desolate, barely lit room, as if there would be something in the room that would keep her from being free.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Yes.” she uttered monotonously.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“There’s a diner, The Two Whales. It’s out by the beaches, hard to miss. Come meet me there.” And with that he hung up.

The diner wasn’t that hard to find, it wasn’t too far from the police station, and it was right across the street from the gas station Max stopped by to fill up her tank before heading to the hotel. It was a quaint little place, with not too many cars hanging around in the parking lot. She parked her car and, pulling her jacket closed, got out of it. The inside of The Two Wales Diner was like heaven on earth compared to the cold weather outside. The whole place smelled like breakfast food, and a jukebox in the back played an old rock song from the 70’s. Max quickly spotted her partner in the row of booths, and took a seat opposite of him.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“So then,” he started “inside the abdomen of the seventh victim, we found this.” He slid an evidence ziplock bag across the table. Inside the bag was a note. It was handwritten, and the script was beautiful but almost manufactured in some way. It read.

 

_To the dearest Maxine Caulfield, I hope you don’t have trouble finding this. I’d like to talk to you about your dismissal from the FBI. I hope it isn’t too much of a sensitive subject to discuss. Please find me at this location, we can have some wine, and perhaps I’ll even prepare a meal._

After that a location is scribbled so hastily and in such different handwriting that it almost seems like it was written by another person.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Do we have any idea who wrote it?” She asked, never moving her eyes from the card.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Not a single one. We suspect the butcher must have some surgery background, if he was able to sew this card into the victim.”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Is the person who wrote the note The Butcher?”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“No, the address written down isn’t exactly local. It’s about a forty minute drive. That’s a lot of driving just for some serial killings.”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“I take it the address isn’t a house.” She finally raised her eyes from the card, shooting David an inquisitive look.   
“It’s not,” he started. “It’s a museum.”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Where?”

“Place called Iterville. Bigger city than this. The museum is a culinary one.”

“A culinary museum?”  
“Apparently locally funded.”  
“When are we going there?”  
“It’s not necessary at the moment. I’d like to finish up at the crime scene first. Have you had a chance to check it out?”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“I’ve been in town for all of 30 minutes Dave, i’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure. Where’s the scene at?” Before David could answer the question a young woman, couldn’t be older than Max, approached the table. She wore a blue uniform, that of The Two Whales Diner staff, and held out a notepad. Her hair was blue, tied back in a ponytail, and her name tag said Chloe.  

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Would you two like anything to eat?” Her voice betrayed her smile, an obvious tell that she wasn’t happy with her job. Or maybe that her job was the only thing she was happy with. At her question David’s expression seemed to practically flip.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Uhm yeah I’ll have the uh,” he looked down at the menu for a moment. “the uh, Bigfoot Bacon Omelette, that sounds nice.”  
“Alrighty then, the Bigfoot Bacon Omelette. And you mam?” The girl identified as Chloe turned her body towards Max, but Max didn’t meet her gaze.  
“Nothing for me.”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Are you sure about that Max?”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“If that cards any indication I’ll have a nice meal come sundown.”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Alright then.” David looked up towards Chloe. “You’ll have to forgive her, she’s not exactly a people person.”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Alright, Bigfoot Bacon Omelette for the sir, and nothing for the grump. I’ll have your food ready soon as possible.” Chloe turned to leave.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“So then David, the crime scene.”  
“Right, right. It’s near the outskirts of town, at the old junkyard.”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Well then I suppose you should lead, I’ll follow you.” With this Max stood up out of the booth and started walking towards the exit.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

\---

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

The Junkyard David mentioned was near the train tracks that lead out of town. It was a smattering of broken cars and broken syringes. Even a broken down bus. Max pulled into the junkyard, following the lead of David, having waited twenty minutes for him to eat his omelette. She waited a second before stepping out of her car, and went up to David.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“The body was found by a few teenagers in a shack out back. Follow me.” And Max followed David through the junkyard, through which a convenient path was cleared up to the shack. The shack in question was nothing worth writing home about, a lazy construct of wood that lay near the train tracks. But what was inside of it was something gut wrenching. Amidst the mess of police tape and markers was a body, held up in the shack by wires.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“And you found the card… in _that_?”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Yes.” David’s tone was resigned, beaten.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

“Jesus Christ.”

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

Whatever reservations Max had before seeing this body, whatever ideas she had, they were dead in the water now. Whoever killed this person isn’t a serial killer, they’re a monster. And they want their work to be known.

[](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)

 

[   
](http://gfycat.com/PoisedPertinentAfricanbushviper)


	3. Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er uh... Oops? Sorry for not updating there guys, that's my bad. I'm trying to get a better work ethic with these, which means right now the next chapter is also finished, but I won't post in until I at least get some progress in chapter 5. Sorry for the hang up.

“Fishing line.”

  
“What?

  
“I need to know who’s purchased fishing line.” Max stood at the counter of the hardware store, face to face with the owner, a balding man in his fifties.

“Arcadia Bay is a big fishing hub ma’am, lot’s a folk buy fishing line.”

  
“This person would’ve bought a lot.”

  
“Well how much?”

  
“Uhm…” Max’s face went blank. “How much line is in a roll?

  
The fisherman let out a gust of air. “Well gosh I dunno off hand. 300 yards maybe? Depends on what kinda line they buy.”

  
“Look sir, I’m not looking for specifics, just who’s bought lot’s of fishing line.”

  
“And can I ask why you need this information young lady?”

  
“Official Police Business.”

  
“There was a little blonde girl, couldn’t’ve been older than 19. She bought a whole loada the stuff.”

  
“When?”

  
“Four, maybe five days ago.”

  
“Anything other than little and blonde? She didn’t sign anything?”

  
“Payed with cash.”

  
“So I’m looking for a teenage girl.”

  
“Seems that way.”

  
“On a Saturday.”

  
“Yes ma’am.”

  
“And all I have to go on is that she’s blonde.”

  
“I’m sorry I couldn’t’a been more help.”

  
Max reached in her pocket and pulled out a lincoln.

  
“You’ve been tremendous help.”

  
\---  
Max stood outside of The Two Whales Diner, the only place she could think of to ask about teenagers. She was without jacket, it was nice and warm outside, surprisingly. She walked up the stairs and pushed open the doors to the diner.  
It was empty, odd for a saturday. Max walked up and sat on one of the bar stools, resting her head in her hands whilst she waited. Eventually, her rest was interrupted by one of her servers.

  
“Hello, my name is Chloe and I’ll be your waitress for today. Oh hey! You’re that FBI lady right?”

  
“Cop.”

  
“Okay “cop”, what do you want?”

  
“Uhm…” Max didn’t come prepared. “Coffee, black.”

  
“...That’s it?”

  
“Mmmhmmm.”

  
The waitress walked away, towards the coffee machine. Max closed her eyes, focused her breathing. It took a certain mindframe for her to ask the right questions. When the waitress put the coffee cup down in front of Max, Max put her hand on her.

  
“Chloe, right?”

  
“Don’t wear it out.”

  
“A couple questions, if you don’t mind.”

  
“Police business?”

  
Max’s lips pursed. “Of a sort.”

  
“Go on ahead.”

  
“I’m looking for someone. Young, blonde, girl, probably 19-20.”

  
“Is that… it?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Well there’s a lot of people like that. Not that I know any of their names.”

  
Max took a sip of her coffee. “Any chance you have a place teenagers would gather? A club or something?”

  
“There’s the vortex club, but that’s for students. I guess some might hang out up in the lighthouse. Maybe by the beach but uh, other than that yeah I’m not sure. Sorry”

  
Max shook her head, took a big sip of coffee. “It’s alright, you’ve done more than enough.” She raised her mug in the air. “You do to-go cups?”

\---  
Max’s coffee rumbled in the cupholder as she drove down to the lighthouse. The sun was high in the sky now, and the sound of the a/c system filled Max’s car. She pondered, then, that perhaps coffee was bad choice on a hot day, and decided she would pick up an iced-tea on her way back.

  
The lighthouse was up on a cliff, and was cornered by an expanse of land, a sort of vertical park. Max pulled up at the beginning of the trail, and began her ascent. She could hear, through the trees, the sound of muffled voices. _Teenagers_. Max thought. As she progressed up the trail and saw where the voices were coming from, she gave herself a mental nod.

  
In the clearing, a series of teenagers were setting up banners between crude poles with fishing line. _I suppose I got the right people_. Max took her badge and wrapped her hand around it, approaching the teens.

  
“Excuse me.” She said at a larger than normal decibel. The tallest one, a blonde, turned towards her and put down the fishing line in shock.

  
“Is there a problem officer?”

  
“Probably not. Any of you buy a lot of fishing line.” Max eyed the fishing line, knowing the answer.

  
“That’d be me.” The blonde raised her hand.

  
“And who is ‘me’?”

  
“Taylor Christensen, i’ll ask again, is there a problem officer?” There was more venom in the word problem then was due.

  
“Don’t get snippy with me Ms. Christensen, I’m doing my job. Fishing line, I assume you got it for a party?”

  
“Yeah, it’s Courtney’s birthday tomorrow.”

 

“Mmm. And is that all the fishing line?”

  
“Uh?” Taylor looked at the other girl, a brunette, and got a nod. ”Yeah.”

  
Max eyeballed the collecting pools of fishing line surrounding the party planners.

  
“You one hundred percent about that?”

  
At the accusation Taylor just turned her head. Max turned towards the brunette, took a couple of steps towards her.

  
“And what’s your name?”

  
“S-Stella miss…”

  
“Okay Stella. When Taylor looked at you, you seemed to be pretty sure that this is all the fishing line. But is it?”

  
“I-i don’t know why you’re asking us! Yes that’s all the fishing line!” Sweat was gathering at Stella’s brow. Max could see it in her motions, in her eyes, Stella is easy to break.

  
“Someone’s dead Stella. Hung up on a whole hell of a lot of fishing line. So excuse me if i’m a bit skeptical that this is all the fishing line.”

  
“S-s-someone's.... Dead?” Max could see the look in Stella’s eye, the way her mouth dropped subtly. Stella was innocent. Max turned around, looked at Taylor, her eyes were bulging now, she was walking backwards slowly, like a zombie. This was a dead end.

  
“If either of you two have any information that would be relevant to the case, I implore you to call up the station.” Max turned around and walked away.

  
\---  
“Ran into a dead end with the fishing line. Only one who’s bought that much is using it for a party.”

  
“How do you know they weren’t lying about it?”

 

“Saw their faces when I dropped “murdered”, they weren’t lying.”

  
“... If that’s your professional opinion I’ll buy it. Where are you right now?”

  
“On my way back to the diner, going to pick up some tea, you want anything?”

  
“I’ll pass, thank you. Come on by the lab when you’re done there, I’ll introduce you to the team.” The phone clicked dead. Max pulled it away from her head and tossed it on the seat next to her. The word “team” had worried her. Max isn’t great with people, she knows that. She barely works well with Madsen, but a team could cause mayhem. She gripped the steering wheel and gulped.

  
The parking lot to the Two Whales Diner was almost empty now, people had headed off to work, and the school kids weren’t quite out. Max pulled into the spot closest the door and headed in.

  
It was an eerie site, the empty diner set to music from the 70’s, a lingering smell of alcohol and pancakes. _Hell of a mix_. She walked up to one of the stools and planted herself down. It was awhile before someone showed up, the same blue haired girl. Chloe.

  
“You seem to be the only person who works here.” Max hunched her shoulders, going into conversation mode.

  
“It’s not exactly the hottest job,” Chloe leaned on the bar, shot Max a smile. “what’ll be this time?”

  
“Iced-tea, to go. You should really get a drive through.”

  
“But then we won’t be able to have face to face interactions.” Chloe got up and sauntered to the back. Coming out with an iced tea. “Here you go.” She handed the tea to Max, then started work on the register. Max traded cash with her and receipt came out.

She pulled the receipt out, wrote something on the back, and handed it to Max. “It’s Price by the way. Chloe Price.” She smiled and walked out the back.

  
Max took the receipt, shoved it in her pocket, and grabbed her tea. _Time to meet the team_. She grimaced as she left the diner.


End file.
